The Untold Tale
by GloriousSoup
Summary: The story of the Rebel Prince is a great one, as most Albion citizens could tell you. This is the same story, but through the eyes of said Prince, Bo.
1. Prologue

Author's note and disclaimer: This is my first Fable fan fiction. And I won't beat around the bush, here. It's probably not going to be very exciting action-wise. This story is meant for people who have played the game and know its story. (Mostly because I'm complete and utter crap at fight scenes. And most of them are so repetitive.) To be more specific, it is a re-telling of the game, but from the Hero's perspective (In this case the Prince, whom I have named Bo). There are breaks from first person to third person, with first-person breaks in bold. (And the occasional thought by Bo himself, in italics. So pay attention, as it might get a bit confusing.) Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and encouraged.

Prologue:

**Every once in a while, someone will tell a bedtime story to their child, or their niece or their nephew, their sibling. This tale could be that of the valiant knight. Fearless, this knight, as he travelled abroad to vanquish the most powerful of foes while embarking on the most dangerous of quests. Saving the kingdom through his efforts. And he lived **_**happily ever after**_**.**

**Or maybe you heard the tale of the beautiful princess? She fled from her comfortable life at the castle to rally the broken kingdom against the great evil threatening to devour her country. Through her passion and leadership, the kingdom rises together. Along the way she meets a stable boy or a soldier or what-have-you, and they fall madly in love. They fall madly in love despite their peers doubts. Through no fault of their own. How could she have known she'd fall for his bravery? Or he, her beauty? Together they lead their newfound army of the most unlikely heroes and they vanquish the demons back to their respective places in Hell. Never before had the kingdom seen such benevolent ruling, afterwards. Only the most suiting forms of justice was brought upon criminals. And she, and her lover, lived **_**happily. Ever. After**_**.**

**I'm sorry to say, that none of this is our tale.**

**The majority of my life was spent in Bowerstone Castle, learning to read and write and play instruments and _sit up straight or you'll be stuck like that for the rest of your life. _And other skills, among that. **

**Never was I allowed to leave the castle. The farthest I've ever ventured is Bowerstone Market, but even then I was plagued by Elite Guards, staring daggers at every man, woman or child that _dared_ even whisper my name. I heard what some of them said, about being my father's son. It was empowering, to be compared to the 'greatest Hero to ever live'. A woman approached me, one day in the summer, asking for an autograph. She made the mistake of putting her hand on my shoulder, earning her a swift blow to the knee, courtesy of the guards. After that day I never returned to the market, my new leash extending only to the castle gardens. **

**King Sparrow died when I was only eleven. That was... ten years ago, now? Feels like a lifetime. Logan took the crown afterwards, and since then we haven't spoken, the occasional "good morning", "good afternoon", or "good night" not withstanding.**

**Ah, but you're getting sick of this rambling, aren't you? ****I suppose we'll start at the beginning of my journey, then, shall we?**


	2. Chapter 1: Becoming a Hero

Author's Note: This is a re-upload because I had to fix the breaks between segments. (There are only breaks because I've skipped over the cutscenes and more tedious bits of the story, like running around and killing bats.) 

The golden shine that came from the Guild Seal was stunning. Cautiously, Bo removed it from the hands of the enormous statue. Luckily it was meant for him in the first place, so he didn't have to feel bad about-

It began to glow. More so than it was before. Now it was almost exploding with light. No, it _was_. There's no way it wasn't. But it wasn't light, it was… power. Knowledge.

Everything went white.

And then Bo awoke. He stumbled to retain his balance.

A woman stood before him, an elderly woman, in red and white robes. Her large hood covered most of her face. She did not move at all, it seemed. Was she even a real person…?

"I am Theresa, the seer of the Spire." She began.

_What the Hell is going on…? _That one thought repeated through Bo's mind like broken record. _What the hell is going on?_

Theresa continued. "I guided your father through his greatest triumph, and now I am here to guide you in yours. Go through the gate."

She disappeared. The gate behind her unlocked with a loud creaking sound, and cautiously did the Prince make his way through it. Behind it stood a wooden treasure chest with golden embellishments decorating it. There was a mold of the Guild Seal on the top.

Upon opening this chest, Bo discovered…

… A glove.

_A bloody glove? _

Before he had the chance to examine what, exactly, this brown glove had to do with _anything, _it was upon him. It seemed to attach itself to his right hand immediately. Hungrily. Almost like a parasite.

"Take this. This gauntlet will grant you the means to unlock your true potential as a Hero. Now go." The red-robed woman spoke again, and at the same time a small flame erupted from the center of the Hero's palm. He moved his hand around in awe, staring at it and smiling ear-to-ear as a white portal opened before him. It made the same design that decorated the chest.

OooOooOoo

"Well? What happened? Do you feel different?"

Walter's voice sounded first.

"I… Have no idea." The Hero looked at his hand. His hand tingled, like it had begun to fall asleep. There also felt to be a heartbeat, directly in the center of his palm.

"Try casting a spell. It may be our only way out of here." The tall, heavy man suggested.

So he did. A flick of his wrist and some firm concentration was all it took to ignite the ground surrounding his feet. After a few curses and thrusts of his arm toward the ground, admittedly.

That stupidly wide smile returned.

"It really worked! You _are _a Hero!" Were it not covered in such a thick beard, an equally sized smile would be visible across Sir Walter's face.

"_I _never doubted it for a second…" The tall butler countered.

"Well of course, neither did I, but still it bloody _worked!" _

OooOooOoo

It was unexpected. Who would have thought there was more to using magic than just… lighting your hand on fire and waving it at people? No, it took energy. A lot of it, actually. Paired with how much running the trio was doing in order to escape the castle, Bo was about to pass out from exhaustion. It nearly slipped his tired mind that he had left his faithful Alsatian, Griffon, at the castle. Lucky dog was sleeping soundly on Bo's bed or pestering the cook, no doubt.

_It'll… get easier, _he thought. Even his thoughts were trying to catch their breath. _I'm just… new to this… Is all…_

Eventually,Jasper spoke out from the back of the group. "It looks like a dead end…"

"Not quite…" Walter stepped out in front of the other two men. "It looks like a Cullis Gate…"

"But I was under the impression that Cullis Gates were all gone?"

"Seems there's one left, at least. Well, you know what to do." A rather large, meaty hand gestured at Bo, then at the Gate.

The Hero stepped up onto the Gate and flicked his wrist once more to create a ring of fire around his feet, slightly singing the toe of one of his cobalt boots.

Blue light engulfed Bo, and he was gone. Walter and Jasper ran to the Gate immediately afterwards to follow.

OooOooOoo

_Thank whatever stupid gods may exist…_

_Wait- where the Hell-?_

The new room was… almost magical. The walls were covered in blue, swirling-patterned wallpaper. In the middle there was a map table, a basket with a blanket strewn lazily across it, a few shelves and two statues. One of a man, and another of… gears?

Oh well. Bo also took notice of the five boarded-up doors, and his butler whom had collapsed backwards beside him.

OooOooOoo

_So, perhaps the map table really DOES double as a teleportation device? How convenient._

Bo and Walter stepped into the fresh snow falling upon the Dweller camp, and the Prince's first reaction was to go back to the castle where it isn't full of snow and ice. And when Walter spoke, it reminded him that they were on the opposite side of the country.

"The man we need to convince to join our cause is Sabine. A proud old sod, and the Dwellers hate Logan's guts." Almost slipping on the thin sheet of ice below the snow, Walter managed to inform his companion of their goal. "He won't be easy to convince, so perhaps I should speak to him first..."

A large, wooden gate blocked their path and at least four dwellers have asked Bo for money, or food, or a gun so they can shoot Logan themselves. Unfortunately, he could supply none of those.

"... And perhaps you should find something else to wear. Something a bit less... Princely." Walter gently pushed the Hero's shoulder, pointing out his elegant attire and how horribly he stuck out. "I have some gold, and it should be enough."

Drawing his brows downward, Bo asked; "Where can I find clothes?"

The soldier handed Bo a small bag of coin. "There should be someone willing to take that off of you. Look around. Maybe spread some of the leftover gold around to the villagers."

With that, Walter turned himself back toward the gate and entered.

OooOooOoo

More time was spent glowering at the shoddy clothing than wearing it. Jasper had since uncovered a dressing room in the Sanctuary, remarkably placed behind one of the boarded doors. But the outfit was purchased. And Bo couldn't bring himself to wear it.

The large, furry hood was bound to be ridiculously itchy, there were no sleeves, so his arms would be cold, the bandana would cover his brown hair that he kept so tidy-

"Sir, I don't think you've quite mastered magic well enough to dress yourself automatically." The butler remarked. This earned a snort in response from the Prince.

Removing the clothing from the mannequin Jasper had dusted and dressed, a look of disapproval never left the Hero's face. "Alright, alright..."

As it turns out, he was right. _No matter... I'll simply change back into my other clothes as soon as I'm finished with this Sabine fellow..._

OooOooOoo

Only three things? Seems simple enough. Obtain some old relic, defeat some mercenaries, and get the Dwellers something to eat. A test for a Hero if ever Bo saw one.

Which he never had, as it was, so he was forced to infer based on the stories he'd heard of his father. Although, those always seemed to make his father out to be the new Avo, as if people actually still believed in that crap.

_Why does that make this more difficult...?_

Difficult or no, Brightwall Academy was already before him. It was time for Bo to prove himself a Hero.

OooOooOoo

Finally. Real weapons in his hands. Magic was all well enough, though the Hero found himself much more natural with a pistol. He was never uncomfortable with swords, as Walter could vouch. During combat training, Bo had managed to saw Walter's blade clean off, right down to the hilt.

There was no way he could do that again. He had a completely clear strike. Any real enemy would have already stabbed him by then. So, pistol it was.

"Ah! Hello, sir." Jasper's voice rang through the Guild Seal strapped to Bo's hip, causing the pseudo-Dweller to jump. "It would seem Walter has gained some information on his mercenary problem. He will be waiting for you by the local tavern. I would suggest seeing him as quickly as possible."

The brown, furred glove that covered the magical gauntlet tapped the Seal, and it began to glow with a faint blue light and emitted a sharp humming noise. "Will do, Jasper." Bo realized he was still wearing the Dweller clothing.

_Ah, well. Can't change right now, Walter needs to speak with me..._

Despite the strange looks and questioning of his bodily temperature and mental health, the warmly-dressed stranger pushed through the residents of Brightwall and made it to the tavern to speak with his mentor.

OooOooOoo

**Now, I'm doing you a service here.**

**You may have noticed and are currently asking "Where the hell is all the fighting? There's no bloody action! I want to read about men tearing each other limb from limb, then beating each other with said limbs until they both suffer excessive blood loss and die horrible deaths!"**

**Well, to tell you the truth, the fighting is all **_**bloody boring. **_**If I went over every single battle that happened, there would be no actual story! Also, this is a retelling of said story. And clearly, if I am still well enough to retell those battles to you now, I've survived every one of them.**

**So I leave it to you, my dear readers, to infer what happens during these battles. I beg you not to make it **_**too **_**embarrassing on my part. When I lose a battle, I'll be sure to let you know.**

**I promise.**


End file.
